


Christmas Lights

by Taybay14



Category: Supernatural
Genre: As fluffy as a fic can be when someone is depressed/suicidal?, Bunker, Canon Compliant, Caring Dean Winchester, Castiel is having a really hard time, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Lights, Depression, Fanart, M/M, Protective Dean Winchester, Suicidal Thoughts, driving in the Impala
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 12:15:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21849505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taybay14/pseuds/Taybay14
Summary: "Actually… I'm not doing so well." Castiel looks up at Dean, his heart pounding from his confession. He just… can't anymore. It's all so heavy. Too heavy. "I don't know if I can… do it anymore."
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 8
Kudos: 126





	Christmas Lights

**Author's Note:**

> This is for anyone having a hard time with their mental health this holiday season <3 This time of year can be hell for some, and not everyone is lucky enough to have a Dean. Stay safe and remember that you're not alone. I'll be on tumblr bored out of my mind this Christmas (& trying to avoid my in-laws) so anyone who just needs to chat or anything else like that, I'm always here for you <3 
> 
> @destiel-love-forever

"Actually… I'm not doing so well." Castiel looks up at Dean, his heart pounding from his confession. He just… can't anymore. It's all so heavy. _Too_ heavy. "I don't know if I can… do it anymore." 

Dean's almost speechless. They don't do that. They don't admit to being sick or hurt or upset. It's not the Winchester way.

But that's what John taught him, and it's bullshit. Because Castiel is sitting here. In front of him. Admitting he needs help. He doesn't have to clarify what _it_ is. Dean can see it in his expression. In the dull, lifeless blue of his eyes. 

"Come on," Dean says quietly. He stands, offering a hand to Castiel. Castiel stares at it for a few seconds before slowly taking it. It feels as natural as if they've been holding hands all their lives. Dean wonders why the hell they haven't done it sooner. 

"Where are we going?" 

"I want you to go change into something comfortable. Then meet me in the garage." 

Castiel's eyebrows pull in. "O-okay." 

Dean turns away, leaving Castiel feeling a bit stunned if he's being honest. He thought Dean would at least ask what's wrong. Maybe offer some comfort. A hug - though that was a longshot, more wishful thinking, but still… _something._

Where is he taking Castiel? He isn't making him leave the bunker, is he? No. No, Castiel can't leave the bunker. Not again. 

Just in case he _is_ leaving, Castiel sneaks into Dean's room. He goes to his dresser and carefully looks through the piles of clothing until he finds it. Dean's faded gray Zeppelin shirt, so soft and worn that it's fraying a bit on the collar. 

It smells like him, even though it's clean. 

Dressed in sweatpants, Dean's shit, and a nice baggy sweater to hide said shirt, Castiel enters the garage on legs that feel disconnected from his body. His eyes burn as he sees Dean leaning against the impala, sipping something from a thermos. 

Dean looks up and gives him one of those brilliant smiles that makes Castiel feel on top of the world. It settles him. Enough where he can breathe fully again. Enough where his hands stop trembling. Enough for him to have the courage to ask, "Are you making me leave?"

Dean's heart lurches almost painfully. He can see it now - how hadn't he seen it before? There's panic in Castiel's expression. Grief. A touch of anger and betrayal. But most of all - defeat. 

"Cas, if anything, I'm trying to make you _stay._ To… want to stay." Dean swallows, his mouth feeling very dry all of a sudden. "On this earth. In this bunker. In my life."

"O-oh." Castiel releases a sigh of relief that Dean feels in his own chest. "Good. That's- that's good. I want to stay."

"Good." Now it's Dean's turn to release his own sigh of relief. "Do you trust me?"

Castiel smiles softly. "Always." 

"Then get in Baby." 

It isn't until he sees Castiel's slight hesitation, followed by a quick shake of his head as if he's telling himself no, that Dean realizes that sentence could be taken two ways. 

He meant the car.

But he wouldn't mind Castiel either. 

When they're both seated, the garage door open, the impala running, Dean hands Castiel one of the two thermoses he had been holding. Castiel had been so worried he hadn't even noticed there were two. 

"Hot chocolate," Dean says in explanation. "Extra marshmallows."

Castiel's favorite.

He feels like his body is lighting up. Coming back to life. It's a slow buzz. Nothing cosmic. Just a spark. But it's _enough_. 

"Thank you, Dean." 

They begin to drive, Zeppelin playing on the radio, the road stretching ahead. At first, Castiel thinks this is what they're going to do. And it's fine. 

It's nice. 

Then he realizes they're in town, heading past all the shops to the residential area. He's about to ask where they're going when Dean turns down a street and pops in a different cassette tape. 

At first, there's nothing. Then a low voice begins to sing a Christmas song. Castiel recognizes the voice. Dean sometimes listens to him on his record player when he's feeling sad. 

Elvis. 

Mary's favorite. 

Castiel is about to look over at Dean, to say or ask... _something_ , but lights catch his eye. He looks out his window instead and gasps quietly. The house they pass is nearly overwhelming. It's decked out in strings of lights, with Santa and his reindeers scattered across the lawn and lit up candy canes lining the walkway. 

The whole neighborhood is like this, give or take a few houses. 

One house is lit up like a winter wonderland, only using white and blue and purple string lights. Glowing snowflakes hang from the branches of their tree. Matching snowflakes cling to the sides of the house, looking as if they'd been embroidered on. 

Another house is rainbow, the actual structure covered in multicolored string lights. There are large spheres lit up in blue on the lawn. One tree is wrapped in pink. Another green. The mailbox is tangled in red. The driveway is lined with yellow. 

There's a rainbow PRIDE flag on a pole off to the right, something Castiel assumes is there all year. 

The front door has a lit up sign that reads "Happy Holigays." 

Castiel giggles to himself. 

"I thought you might like that one," Dean says fondly. "I know how much you like your puns. Plus, ya know, _PRIDE_." 

He doesn't have to clarify. They both know what that means to the two of them, even if they've never had the courage to say so out loud. 

The smile Castiel gives him is one for the books. His eyes squeezed nearly closed, the skin around them wrinkled. Nose scrunched up. Teeth bright. Dean knows he'll remember every detail for the rest of his life. He has to. This is one of those perfect moments. 

It's even better when Castiel looks back out the window, forehead pressed to the cool glass, eyes lit up in wonder. 

Maybe that's why Dean finds himself still talking. "Mom used to do this, when we were little. It was my favorite. I remember being _so excited_ for the baby to get to ride around with us and see all the pretty lights. We'd drive around for what felt like hours. She'd put this cassette tape in and sing along as we went. I could always tell when she was having a bad day because we'd listen to it twice." 

Dean takes a sip of his hot chocolate, hoping Castiel didn't hear the way his voice cracked at the end of that. 

"You miss her," Castiel says quietly. It's pointing out the obvious, but Dean doesn't mind. 

"Yeah." Dean slows even further, to the point where they're barely crawling forward. He looks over at Castiel, smile falling. This is serious. He needs Castiel to know that. Meeting his eyes, Dean tells him, "I would miss you too. Please… I - Cas, I would miss you _so much_." 

Castiel can hear it in Dean's voice. The slight panic. The pleading. He had wondered if Dean even knew. If he had been able to tell earlier, or if he had thought Castiel was just a little sad and tired. Needed a break. 

But Dean knew. Of course he did. Dean always just _knows_. 

And there's something so damn _nice_ about that. 

"I won't go," Castiel whispers. 

"Promise?" 

The impala is still now, idling in front of a house with golden lights. 

Neither of them notice.

"I promise." Castiel swallows hard, looking down at his hands where they grasp his thermos of hot chocolate. "I - I can't make it stop. I've been trying. Really, I promise, I have. But I won't… _go away._ If it gets that bad, I'll come to you?"

It's a question. Asking permission. 

Dean nods rapidly. "Yes. Come to me. Because you might not be able to make it stop, Cas. I know how that must feel. How frustrated and helpless... I know you're used to things being easy. Just a little bit of grace and the cut or bruise or broken bone is healed. This isn't like that, and that's okay. I'm not asking you to find a magic button. I'm not asking you to make it stop. I'm just asking you to let me be there too. Let me into the dark. Because - are you ready for this? it's super cheesy, and if you tell Sam I'll kick your ass, but - I want to be your Christmas lights."

A tear slips down Castiel's cheek. He lifts a hand, but Dean gets there first. Cupping the side of Castiel's face, he gently runs his thumb along his skin, collecting evidence of Castiel's sadness. 

Of his relief.

"Dean," Castiel says on a breath. 

And then their lips are touching. It's not fast or deep. It's not like how Dean imagined whenever he sat around daydreaming. There's no sexual tension or explosive passion.

It's soft. 

Easy.

Like coming home. 

When they part, Castiel presses his forehead against Dean's, just as he did to the window. They smile. Laugh softly. Kiss again. 

Eventually, Dean goes back to driving. Castiel returns to watching the lights. Dean starts the cassette for the second time. Because it's a bad day. And that's alright. 

Because Castiel has hot chocolate and Elvis and Christmas lights. Because Castiel has Dean. 

And this… _thing_ inside of him, trying to suck his energy and hope, trying to shroud him in darkness, this _thing_ that fills him with terror because Castiel has never _not_ wanted to be alive before, and he doesn't like this new feeling, this _thing_ has no chance against Dean Winchester. 

"Oh, and Cas?"

Castiel looks away from the window, back at Dean. "Yeah?" 

Dean grins, eyes flicking to where the tattered gray collar of his favorite shirt peeks out at him from beneath Castiel's sweater."Go ahead and keep the Zeppelin shirt. I like it on you." 

And if that isn't Dean Winchester saying _I love you_ , then neither of them know what is. 

Castiel smiles. "I love you too." 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @destiel-love-forever if you'd like <3  
> Merry Christmas!/Happy Holidays!


End file.
